Fine Again
by Kybo
Summary: After four years...was I really back?
1. insomnia

_Okay, this is probably gonna be the only A/N, cuz they're dumb and boring and no one really reads these things anyway, right? So, this story starts kinda slow I guess, so just stick with me for a while. Please please please review! Tell me what you liked, disliked, whatever. But if you flame, you better give me a way to improve my writing, instead of just saying "this leik totally sux and makes me want to vomit". It's stupid and only makes me laugh at you. So, with all that said…on with the sh-story!_

_(I do not own Danny Phantom. If I did, would I really be writing fanfiction?)_

The crunching of gravel beneath my feet was the only sound that interrupted the still night air. A steady rhythm was being beaten out in my mind as if someone with a bass drum was hiding somewhere in my cerebral cortex.

I closed my eyes and let the faint wind whisper through my bangs and caress my face. I sighed as the tendrils of wind played over my eyelids and danced across my ears. It was crisp; not quite freezing, but cold enough to assure me I wasn't asleep.

I opened my eyes again and dug my hands into my pockets. For the first time in hours, I looked around and took stock of my location.

Dilapidated houses with overgrown dying grass surrounded me. Chain link fences and broken down cars and trucks. Definitely not the high class end of town.

But I didn't care.

I simply walked. Yet even though my feet were stepping with a calm and steady beat, I was running away again like I had done so often. My gaze dulled again and my mind traveled far away.

I had been back for three days, and I hadn't seen any of them. Not one.

I vaguely heard a bell ring as I stepped through a doorway. My eyes focused, and I realized I was in a gas station convenient store.

_Whatever._

The man standing behind the counter glanced at me, his bloodshot eyes half closed.

Sleepy.

Drunk, maybe.

I walked to the back of the store to the refrigerated section, slid open the glass, and pulled out a 2 liter bottle of Dr. Pepper.

After paying for it with the last of my money and stepping back into the chill night air, I realized I was across the street from the park.

A sign reading 'Amity Park' dangled at the top of a post, readable only by the dim lamplight cast over it from an ancient streetlamp nearby.

I had long ago stopped questioning fate, so, shrugging, I stepped into the trees.

It was darker, and I could feel my muscles start to relax with the added cover of the 'forest' around me.

I unscrewed the cap to the soda and took a swig.

Carbonation danced in my throat as I swallowed, and I could feel my surroundings come into sharper focus as I woke up.

A minute later, and I tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trashcan.

Invigorated, I bounced in place for a couple seconds.

I longed to just jump in the air and fly, to feel the wind hammering against my face as I freed myself of the gravitational chains that currently bound me. It would be so relaxing.

So calming.

But I couldn't, and I knew it. If anyone saw me….

…

I sighed.

After four years…

…..Was I really back?


	2. the girl in the trees

Bed sheets rustled as the teenage girl occupying them turned and shifted uncomfortably. Lilac eyes stared blankly at the shadowed walls of her darkened room.

There was a long silence, disrupted only by the sound of her even breathing.

After a pause, she sighed and sat up, giving up any attempt at getting sleep. So, rubbing her eyes, she swung her feet out of bed and trudged into the bathroom connected to her room and shut the door.

Once inside, she flipped on the light and leaned against the counter, staring back at her tired reflection.

Amethyst eyes, black hair, and pale skin; Sam stared in the mirror silently.

It had been four years.

Four.

She thought she was over it.

She should have been by now.

Yet lately, her dreams had been coming back, and she hadn't been sleeping.

She sighed again. "Danny…"

After another prolonged glance in the mirror, she pushed the play button on a CD player sitting on the bathroom counter. As the melodious rhythm of a piano accompanied by a steady guitar rift proceeded to fill the room, she began to pull off her pajamas and turn on the water in the shower, softly singing to herself.

"_Something takes a part of me…something lost and never seen."_

She turned on the hot water, then the cold, adjusting the temperature.

"_Every time I start to believe…something's raped and taken from me, from me…"_

Back in her bedroom, the first rays of the morning sun illuminated the dark purple drapes and crept slowly across the floor.

* * *

I sat on a park bench, watching the sun rise, making the buildings in front of it appear like black shadows piercing the sky.

I looked away.

Slowly, I stood up and stretched, feeling the bones and joints along my spine pop and crack as I did so.

_That's better._

"So what did Barbara say about your new phone?"

I gasped and stepped off the path, turning to look. Two early morning joggers were coming towards me, close enough that they were already in sight. I couldn't risk going intangible.

"Oh she loved it!" A thin red-haired woman said enthusiastically. "In fact, she said she was considering getting one just like it and—Oh!"

I cringed as the two women made a beeline straight towards me. The first was average height and rather chubby with dirty blonde hair, maybe forty years old. She really shouldn't have been wearing such a tight jogging suit. The other woman was thin and bony with flaming red hair and freckles everywhere.

I realized with a pang of horror that this woman used to be good friends with my mother…hell, maybe she still was. I hadn't seen anyone in a while.

I shrugged my sweater tighter around my body and tilted my head forward enough that my black hair fell over my face, covering my eyes. I silently prayed she wouldn't recognize me.

"Goodness hon, are you okay?" asked the chubby woman in the too-tight clothes.

"I'm fine." I answered. "Just taking a walk."

"Are you sure you're okay? You look awful."

A twinge of irritation bubbled up inside of me, and I glanced up. "Thanks." I drawled.

The woman blushed. "I didn't mean like that. We were just startled, is all. It's not often we see other people out here this early."

"Maybe you should sleep in more so you won't be startled."

"Now, that's rather rude. We were just concerned. You don't need to go off on us."

_Just shut up and start jogging again lard guts. You shouldn't have stopped in the first place._

I pushed the thought away and forced a small smile. "Sorry. I'm not a morning person."

All this time I was painfully aware of the red-head, I think her name was Mary or Marge or something, surveying me and trying to get a good look at my face. I glanced downward again.

The first woman smiled. "Well that's quite alright, dear."

_Dear? Who the hell calls people 'dear' these days besides old grandmothers?_

"You sure you're okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright." She glanced at her running partner. "You ready Marie?"

_Ah. Marie. I was close, though._

"Marie?"

I snapped back to attention. Marie was still staring at me with a strange look on her face.

Finally, she spoke.

"Danny?"

_Well, shit._

* * *

"_Danny?"_

Sam's head shot up at the name. Normally she would have dismissed the name as another Danny, but the tone of voice and the voice itself pricked at something in the back of Sam's mind.

She knew that voice from somewhere.

Stepping slowly, Sam walked off the path and through the trees until she spotted three people standing on the side of the path.

One of them, Sam cringed at the sight, was overweight and wearing a vivid tight pink jogging suit, while the other woman, wearing grey sweats and a light blue sweatshirt, Sam recognized as Mrs. Fenton's friend Marie. The third person, however, was a teenage boy with messy black hair and matching clothes.

Sam studied this boy closely. He was around six feet tall with black hair, pale skin, and wearing a black sweatshirt that looked like it had seen much better days. His legs were clad in an old pair of black jeans with a chain hanging from the back pocket where he housed what Sam assumed was his wallet. On his feet was a pair of dark brown or black boots. He was hunched over, with his hands dug into his pockets.

Sam waited for someone to say something.

The boy shifted slightly. "Sorry?"

Marie stepped towards him. "Danny, is that you?" The fat woman looked confused.

"Sorry," the boy said. "You must be confusing me with someone else."

Marie studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I guess so. I'm sorry."

"That's alright." The boy turned to walk away, but before he moved three steps, Marie stopped him again.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

After a slight hesitation, the boy answered. "Median."

Marie gave him a strange look before nodding. "Oh. Well…alright. Have a good day, Median."

"Thanks."

The two women turned and jogged away, but the boy stayed still. Sam could clearly see him relax as he slumped into a nearby park bench. Something about the name 'Median' seemed familiar, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what.

She noticed she was holding in her breath, and let it out, somewhat surprised at the disappointment coursing through her.

"It's not him." She muttered quietly to herself.

After a pause, she turned and quietly trudged away, returning to her early morning walk.

* * *

I waited on the park bench and watched as the two women turned a corner and were lost to view, then turned my head a fraction of an inch to the side until I heard the person in the trees walk away.

_Damn, that was close._

With a thought, I turned intangible and vanished from the bench.

I started to walk away, invisible to the world, but then curiosity got the better of me. Turning around, I stared into the forest of old oak trees.

_Who had been hiding in the trees listening in? _Why _was someone hiding in the trees listening in???_

A small flare of heat seemed to surge through my core in anticipation, but I repressed it. Sliding silently through the trees, I eventually made out the retreating form of a person.

A quick evaluation told me that the person was female, about 5 foot 4 inches, and slim- maybe 115 pounds. She had black hair that hung down to just past her shoulders, dark blue jeans and a black sweatshirt, and her black boots padded silently in the soft soil.

I twitched involuntarily, a sudden rush of ice flowing through my veins along with the horror that seemed to seep from my heart.

_No…it can't be her…not this early…_

But I couldn't be sure, so, holding my breath, I floated warily behind her. After a few minutes, she sighed and stopped walking, hugging herself. I took the chance and passed ahead of her. When I turned to look at her face, though, it took all of my concentration to stay invisible and in the air.

Standing five feet away from me wearing simple black tank top with a black zip-up sweatshirt draped over her shoulders, looking like she was ready to cry, was Sam.

* * *

Sam hugged herself as she stood under the shadow of a great oak tree. She couldn't understand it – she had been fine. She had accepted the fact that her best friend was never coming home. So why all of a sudden was she starting to freak out again? There was no possible explanation.

When she had heard the woman mention the name, she had suddenly been so sure, so positive that it was him; more sure about this than anything she had been through in the last four years.

Then that boy had to throw it away. He wasn't Danny. He was Median. And Sam hated him for it.

Her head shot up quickly as a quiet gasp emanated from the air in front of her.

The empty forest graced her vision.

She squinted through the early morning light. "Who's there?"

Silence.

"I know you're there,

* * *

_Show yourself!_"

I backed away from her without even thinking about it.

She looked so different from the Sam I had left, and yet so much the same. The same lilac eyes; those would never change. The way she looked straight through me as she searched was so familiar; the slight squinting of her eyes, the way her nose scrunched up just a little. But her voice… everything about it was different. It was no longer young and carefree and content. It was more mature, dark and laced with just a hint of what was surely a well of emotion. Hearing every syllable she spoke was like standing at the tip of an ice berg that was otherwise completely submerged.

It terrified me.

"Sam…" the word barely escaped my mouth, but her head swiveled immediately toward my position, her eyes narrowed with suspicion and more than a little confusion.

My heart would have been racing.

I could barely feel my world slipping away as I stared into her eyes.

_Those eyes…_

I wasn't ready. Not yet. Not here. Not now.

I was gone with a short burst of icy air.

* * *

Sam jumped and stepped back lightly as a slight gust of icy air hit her.

She was trembling, and little beads of perspiration lined her brow.

She had heard the voice, quiet yet clear, speaking her name. Almost a curse. Almost a blessing. Almost a moan.

She knew that voice.

Without a second thought, she turned and ran all the way back to her house.


	3. Spiderman

"Hey, Sam. You alright?"

Sam's head shot up as she snapped back to attention. A bespectacled boy stared back at her from across the table.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." She shrugged. "Just a little tired, that's all. What were you saying?"

Tucker looked at her closely, concern lacing his green eyes. "What's up?"

Sam sighed. It was no use lying; Tucker was her best friend.

"The dreams are coming back."

Tucker frowned, trying to remember. "What dreams?"

Sam hesitated. "The ones I had after Danny disappeared."

Tucker frowned slightly. "But it's been four years!"

"I know. I don't know why they've come back."

Tucker reached out and touched her hand. A comforting gesture; the least he could do.

"Is there something else?"

Sam closed her eyes for a second.

Tucker waited.

All around them people hustled by in the general bustle of the Nasty Burger, but for the two teens sitting in the far booth, everything seemed silent.

Then Sam spoke. "This morning, I woke up after the nightmare. I had to get out of the house for a while, so I took a walk. When I was in the park, I heard these two women talking to a boy. One of them asked if he was Danny."

She paused. Tucker looked confused. "She asked if the boy was Danny? But how would she know?"

"She was one of Maddie Fenton's friends, I think."

"Oh." Tucker was silent again, waiting for his friend to continue.

Sam seemed to be struggling for words. "When…when she asked if he was Danny…I-I was so sure that it was _our_ Danny. Not one of the millions of other Danny's out there, but our Danny. It just…." Sam paused again, clearly frustrated. "I…I _knew_, you know? I knew it had to be him. But then he said no. He said his name was Median."

Tucker seemed to think about it. "What if he lied? Median isn't a very common name, after all."

Sam sighed. "I dunno. But when I was coming back through the trees, there was someone there. I'm sure of it. I heard a breath, and then…." Her eyes watered for a second, before she angrily blinked the unshed tears away.

"And then what?" Tucker asked quietly.

"Someone, or something whispered my name. Then this cold air hit me, and it was gone."

"Do you think it could have been Danny?"

Sam noticed a shine in Tucker's eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time, like an ember that dared to rise up in a bed of long-forgotten ashes.

Silently, she nodded, before bursting out angrily. "How could it be, though? There was no one there! And what about the cold air?"

Tucker frowned as he thought. After a second, he shrugged. "I dunno."

Sam sighed and wiped away a frustrated tear. "I've finally lost it."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I've finally freaking lost it. I'm hearing the ghost of my dead friend whispering to me through the trees."

After a second, she laughed through her tears. A short, bitter chuckle.

Tucker smirked slightly.

"At least he isn't asking to copy your homework….or singing to you through the trees or something."

Sam laughed again, a genuine smile breaking through her features as her mood lightened some.

* * *

Traffic whizzed by me as I stood at the side of the road, waiting to cross.

I didn't know what I was doing, or where I was going.

I was running away.

Again.

I frowned.

_This is pathetic. You're going to have to face them sometime, Danny._

The light changed, and the 'walk' sign flashed. I walked across the street with my hands still dug in my pockets.

_How will they take it though? They'll never accept me. I'm a freak. I'm a god damn monster. They're not going to welcome me back with open arms._

The sounds of a struggle reached my ears, and I paused for a second after stepping onto a sidewalk. There was a shuffling noise coming from a nearby alleyway, followed shortly by a _thwump_ as something was shoved against a wall.

Something sparked inside of me, and I almost grinned.

Almost.

Violence _is_ a bad thing, after all.

_Right…_

I stepped over to the alley and looked down into the murky space between two older buildings.

My nose scrunched up as the smell of mold and urine pierced into my nostrils.

_Ugh. Cities._

I saw shadows shuffling farther down, and stepped inside towards the combatants.

Something flashed in the shadows, and I quickened my pace a little. A portly man near his fifties in a chef's apron was being shoved up against the wall by a twenty-something in blue jeans and a muscle shirt. The younger one was hissing something that I couldn't quite hear, while the man scrabbled at the wall behind him in his effort to get away.

"What, did he kick your dog or something?"

There was a pause in the action as both the assailant and the victim looked at me in surprise. After seeing that I was nothing more than a scrawny teenager, the guy in the muscle shirt grinned.

"You lost, kid?"

I shrugged. "Not really. Just wandering around. Thought I'd stop by. You look like you're having fun, but I doubt he is." I pointed to the fellow pinned against the brick wall of the building, which I figured was the back wall to the Old Italian restaurant 'La Cucini de Italia', or something.

_How the hell did I remember that? I never ate there…_

"You better wander somewhere else, kid." The man snarled. "You wouldn't want to get hurt now, would you?"

"Alright, but you should let him go first."

The old man's eyes widened and he looked quickly at me. "No son, you just go. I'll be fine. Just go. I don't want you to get hurt."

The younger man hit him against the wall a little harder, causing the man, Gregorio (from his nametag…but who knows? That could've just been a fancy restaurant name, or he could've nabbed the apron from someone else. Wait….who cares?) to wince.

I frowned slightly and looked at the guy in front of me.

He grinned back. "You think you can tell me what to do? What are you, like fourteen?"

"Eighteen, actually." I replied with a lighthearted tone.

"Wow. You're pretty small. You'd smash pretty easily. At least this guy's got some padding, huh?" He laughed as he poked Gregorio in his stomach.

"Genetics aside, I think I _can_ tell you what to do. It's just up to you on whether or not you want to act on it."

"I think I'm gonna kick your scrawny little ass in a second if you open your mouth again."

I grinned. "Here I am!"

He rolled his eyes, then pulled a knife from inside a pocket of his jeans and pointed it at me. "There you go." He drawled.

He dropped the old man and lunged at me. The knife plunged through the empty space where I had recently been. He stumbled forward with his momentum, the knife swinging harmlessly through empty air. A boot connected with his backside and helped him in his plunge to the asphalt.

"Oof!" He winced as the gravel scraped his face, then growled and jumped up as he heard a chuckle behind him.

"Do you have any idea how many kinds of _stupid_ you just looked?" I laughed. "After all that talk, you gotta at least cut me or _something_! Even a simple bruise would be fine."

He snarled and jumped up to his feet, brandishing the knife in front of him. "Oh, you'll have a lot more than that when I'm through with you."

I turned and winked at the astonished Gregorio, then turned in time to push away the arm of the disgruntled bastard with the knife.

_Poor guy…I almost feel bad. He's got no clue._

With that thought, I felt my spirits start to slip, and clung desperately to any kind of happiness (no matter how fake) or adrenaline I may have previously possessed.

After a few minutes of shuffling around in the cramped alleyway, I got bored. "Oh, come on!" I said, exasperatedly. "You're too freaking slow!"

He swung the knife again at me, his eyes flashing. I didn't move, and the blade bit deep into my arm.

Blood hit the wall next to me, spattering next to the other questionable stains on the stone.

Gregorio gasped. The attacker looked a little too surprised for his own good, and I smirked.

"Well, it took you long enough."

The guy hesitated.

"You do know I gave you that shot, right?"

He nodded. He actually nodded. His eyes were like friggin' saucers, I swear.

I sighed, my good mood evaporating.

_No clue…_

"You know, when you actually manage to hit someone, you're supposed to _keep _hitting him while he tries to recover from the blow. Not stand there like some slack-jawed idiot."

The guy just stood there, staring at my arm. I waved it in front of me, ignoring the sting. "What, never seen blood before?"

There was silence in the alley.

"Oh, come on, do something."

The man closed his mouth. He stared at me suspiciously and whispered, "What kind of _freak_ are you?"

I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"One of a kind."

Within a second I had teleported through the man and spun around with a flying kick. He was thrown to the side, his head hitting the hard stone wall. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Grumpily, I shoved my hands into my pockets and turned to look at Gregorio. He was still staring at me, wide-eyed.

_He was scared of me._

"Go ahead and call the cops. He won't wake up for a while."

I turned and trudged wearily away. Behind me, the sun set slowly behind the concrete jungle I had returned to.

Blood still dripped slowly from my arm, before the wound faded away along with the dead light of the day.

* * *

"_Hey Sammie, look!"_

_A six-year old Sam giggled as Danny ran past her, a bed sheet tied around his neck like a cape._

"_Who are you trying to be?"_

"_Guess!"_

_Sam put a small finger on her chin as she pondered, and Danny grinned brightly, his front teeth missing._

"_Are you Superman?"_

"_Nope!" Danny laughed. A child's laugh full of innocence and life. His bright blue eyes shone with mirth as he watched his friend._

"_Batman?"_

"_Nope!"_

_Sam shrugged and held her hands to her sides._

"_I dunno who you are, Danny."_

_He ran in a circle, holding the cape out._

"_I'm Spiderman!"_

_Sam frowned. "You're not Spiderman!"_

_Danny stopped. "Yeah I am."_

"_Nuh-uh. Spiderman doesn't have a cape."_

"_Yeah he does! He jumps around the buildings like this!"_

_He climbed up on top of the couch and jumped to the coffee table, his socks slipping a little on the polished wood. He regained his balance and planted his small fists proudly on his waist._

"_See?"_

"_You're gonna get hurt, Danny."_

"_No I'm not! I'm Spiderman!"_

_Sam crossed her arms. "He doesn't have a cape."_

_Danny pouted, crawling down from the table. "He should."_

_Sam turned back to the T.V., where Tom was chasing Jerry around the corner with a hammer waving over his head._

_After a pause, Danny clambered off the table and sat down next to Sam._

"_You know what would be really cool, Sammie?"_

_She turned to look at him. "What?"_

"_If I could be like a ghost or something."_

"_What do you mean? You want to die?"_

_Danny pondered for a second, then grinned. "Nah, I wouldn't be dead. I would be alive, but have ghost powers. Wouldn't it be awesome to be able to fly, and disappear, and shoot those beams and stuff?"_

"_Yeah, I guess. But what would you do with your powers?"_

"_I would be a superhero, like Spiderman!" Danny raised his cape a little bit for emphasis._

_Sam giggled. "Okay, ghost-boy, what would your name be?"_

_Danny thought a second, staring into the space in front of him. "It would have to be cool, but it would need to mean something, too."_

_Sam laughed. "You could be Danny Phantom!"_

_Danny laughed too. "Yeah, maybe. But if I were part ghost, and part person…I would be right in the middle, right?"_

_Sam shrugged. "I guess so. Why?"_

_Danny's eyes brightened. "I know what my name would be!"_

* * *

In the darkness of her room, Sam shot up with a gasp, the name rolling off her tongue like mist in a forgotten jungle.

"Median…"


	4. 2 am

"_Uh…hello_?" A groggy, sleep-choked voice answered the phone.

"Tucker! It's Danny!"

"_Wha-_?"

"Median is Danny, Tucker!"

"_Who's Median_?"

"Tucker, wake up!"

"_Sam…it's like, two in the morning or something…_"

"Tucker, remember when I told you about this morn- I mean, yesterday morning, when I was walking in the park?"

"_Uh….yeah…with the old ladies and that kid_?"

"Yeah! Tucker, that kid _was_ Danny. I'm sure of it."

"_How_?"

"Can you sneak out for a little while?"

"_Why_?"

"We need to talk."

"_We are talking, Sam._"

"Face to face."

"_Can't it wait until morning_?"

"Tucker, he's back! We can't just wait."

There was a pause as Tucker yawned. "_We don't even know if it's really him! It could just be some kid with a really weird name._"

"I know it's him, Tuck. Please, you've gotta help me find him. I can't do this alone."

There was a pause over the phone.

A sigh.

"_…Alright. Where do you want to meet_?"

"How about behind the theater?"

"_Sure. Gimme a half hour._"

"Alright. I'll see you there."

Click.

For the first time in years, Sam felt lighter than air.

She also felt extremely scared.

What if she was wrong?

* * *

Tucker laughed. "He wanted to be a ghost?"

Sam grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."

"And he said he wanted to be called 'Median'?"

"Yep."

"Danny?"

"Yep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Danny thought of that, all on his own?"

"He has his moments."

Tucker chuckled again, noting at the same time that Sam used the word 'has', not 'had'.

She was dead serious.

Hope sparked in Tucker's chest.

Maybe Danny really _was_ back, after all.


	5. sweet irony

"_Yesterday, a robbery attempt was thwarted by what police are calling a good Samaritan who as of now remains unnamed. Apparently a young Caucasian male, approximately 18 years of age, stopped the criminal James Merdin, who has avoided custody in his latest crime spree until last night. Bill West is on scene with more information. Bill?"_

* * *

I stopped and looked through the window at the news report. I was next to an electronics shop on Main Street, and the TV's currently being advertised in the window were showing the morning news. On the screen, a dark-haired man in a business suit and holding a microphone was speaking his piece about the 'good Samaritan'.

"_The police have a decent description of the hero of last nights attempted robbery, but are refusing to disclose the information at this time."_

I let out a breath as Mike Hapscomb, the city's chief of police, came on screen.

"_The suspect has been apprehended. As for the individual who saved Mr. Govacci, it is not up to us to disclose that information. If he wants to get his name out there, he can stop by the police station and give a report. We will not endanger his privacy. That is all."_

The gaggle of reporters all began asking questions at once, and the screen switched back to the studio, where the blonde anchorwoman smiled at the camera.

"_James Merdin is currently being held at the state prison and is awaiting a trial date. Now onto the weather with Sam Klindal."_

I turned away from the television and walked away from the electronics store.

A slight grin alighted my features.

_Maybe I should go and give a report…_

I chuckled quietly. Headlines were already popping into my head.

_Teenager vanishes for four years then suddenly reappears as a hero! Old Italian restaurant owners everywhere sleep easy! Danny is here! Ha ha!_

I realized my chuckles had given away to laughter, and quickly shut up as several passersby gave me strange looks.

I cleared my throat and walked away down the street.

* * *

"So where do we look now?"

Sam shrugged.

They had been walking the streets since two forty-five in the morning, and it was now one in the afternoon.

Still no sign of Danny.

"I dunno." Sam sighed. The frustration in her voice made Tucker wince. "Let's get something to eat, and then we could start looking again."

Tucker realized just how hungry he was, and nodded. "That's a good idea. We could head over to the mall." He suggested. "It's only a couple of blocks away."

"Okay."

They headed off down the street.

* * *

I stepped slowly down the sidewalk, deep in thought. My good mood from earlier had vanished.

I swear…I must be bipolar or something. I wouldn't doubt it. I happen to be a pretty fucked up individual if I do say so myself.

A car whizzed by me so close I could practically feel the heat from the sun-baked metal.

I jumped and looked where I was going.

Somehow I had left the sidewalk and was trudging along on the side of the road itself.

I stepped back onto the sidewalk and glanced around.

I realized I was near the mall, and stopped.

Did I dare?

_Maybe I should…_

Somehow it felt right.

But I was suddenly terrified.

_What if I'm recognized?_

Before I could really follow that train of thought, a strange detachment came over me, and my feet started moving forward of their own accord.

_Who cares if I'm recognized?_

I felt an irrational anger flare inside of me.

_It's bound to happen sooner or later, isn't it? It'll give me an excuse to stop running away! 'Cuz I'm too damn weak to just go and find any of them._

Funny thing. That was when I realized that I actually _wanted_ to be found.

Somehow, that thought calmed me.

And, funnier thing, that's exactly when Tucker stepped out of an alleyway, closely followed by Sam, and bumped right into me.

Talk about irony.


	6. falling again

We stared at each other for a long time.

We must have been a sight…three slack-jawed teenagers silently contemplating each other as a cow might contemplate an oncoming train.

My mind was buzzing…yet I couldn't produce a single coherent thought. It was kind of like the silence you find in white noise.

After what seemed like eons, Sam stepped tremulously forward.

"Danny?"

My mouth suddenly seemed to be filled with cotton balls, and I wondered idly how they had gotten there. My body was numb; I couldn't tell if I was standing or floating, if my hands were in my pockets or not, if I was alive or not.

"Uh…"

What was I supposed to say? 'Hey guys, what's up?' didn't seem like it would work to well. But somehow that was all my fried brain could produce.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

An incredulous look spread like molasses across Tucker's features.

And Sam…where was she?

I suddenly realized I couldn't breathe, and someone was pressed against me, her arms wrapped tightly around my torso.

Warm, and smelling like lavenders.

There she was.

My brain caught up with me and I realized that I realized Sam was hugging me so tight I couldn't breathe, and jumped back reflexively.

She let go, and I felt pained at her confused, hurt look. Even more so at the tears in her eyes.

I rubbed the back of my neck with my right hand, and I realized that my left hand was indeed in my pocket.

Sam's lips moved slowly, but I couldn't hear anything. Tucker was still giving me that cow vs. train look.

"What?"

Her lips moved again, and I could just barely hear her this time. "Where…why…?"

I took a deep breath, let it out.

"Well…uh…funny story…"

I don't think my brain's been this empty of anything resembling a clear thought or emotion for quite a while. It was quite literally empty.

Sam and Tucker stared at me.

"Well…you see…there was this, uh…band of bat-winged teddy bears that attacked me and I just escaped their, um, hidden castle lair hidden deep in the land of Transylvania."

_What the flying fuck? Where did _that_ come from? _

Something similar must have been going through their minds as well.

I actually laughed at the faces they made.

Something seemed to snap in the air between us, and then Sam and Tucker were both crying and laughing and hugging me and punching me and…and…

"Whoa, wait wait waitwaitwaitaminuteguys."

They stepped back, both wearing watery grins of goofiness.

"Um….hi to you to?"

They laughed.

"Danny, where have you been?" Tucker asked breathlessly.

"We thought you were dead." Sam hiccupped, but grinned all the same.

I looked down at myself, then back up at them, my brain buzzing.

"Am I not?"

They looked confused.

"Don't tell me you've stopped watching movies."

_I haven't talked this much in a while. I haven't acted this idiotic. This weird._

But truth is, I was terrified. My mind had decided to start working again, only it was going way overtime.

I couldn't do this.

Everything in me was shaking, boiling, melting, freezing.

I wanted to run.

Run, run, run.

My body was screaming at me to just _go_.

I realized I was twitching slightly.

"Danny?"

I realized I was zoning as well.

"What?"

"Where have you been? Seriously."

"We need to know. Please, Danny."

I looked into their faces, shining with terror and hope and sorrow and worry and a mesh of other emotions that I couldn't discern.

"Uh…" I rubbed the back of my neck again. "I…can't."

"You can't?" Sam seemed like she was ready to break down.

I was suddenly angry, the energy inside me boiling up into a flare of frustration.

I couldn't stand seeing them like this. I had always remembered them being so strong, especially Sam. Nothing could daunt them. Nothing could break them. They were perfect. But maybe my memories were wrong. They both looked as if the tiniest gust of wind could blow them away into oblivion. It scared me to see them like this. It was horrifying. My fear turned into more anger.

My face had hardened. My fists were clenched.

"No, I can't. Not here, not now. You don't need to know, so don't ask."

They looked taken aback, hurt, afraid.

_Stupid idiots…_

I couldn't take it any more. I was shaking. I was ready to friggin' blow.

I had to get out of there.

They didn't deserve this.

Their best friend had disappeared for four years without a trace and suddenly reappeared in the blink of an eye. They were ecstatic, confused, hopeful, terrified.

I couldn't take it out on them.

They didn't deserve that.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I turned around and ran away as fast as I could.

"Danny! Wait!"

"No!"

I could hear them running after me, so I ducked into an alleyway and hid in the shadows.

No more than a shadow myself.

A quivering, crying, dangerous little shadow.

And when they came in the alleyway after me, they couldn't find me.

"Danny?"

God, it hurt.

I couldn't stand the guilt, the pain, the fear.

"Come on, Danny. Please? Come out."

"Let us help you."

And then a whisper.

"Please. Please don't go again."

I hugged my knees to my chest as tight as I could, hiccupping and crying and shaking and terrified and furious.

But not making a sound.

I thought I would explode.

_Why do I feel like this?_

Eventually, they left.

Tucker was holding Sam to himself.

Like I was holding onto myself. My mind. My sanity.

It was a tenuous grip.

But somehow, I held on by the barest of threads.

And when I opened my eyes again, it was dark.

I stood up, still shaking.

A mirror was propped up on the wall across from me.

I saw myself.

My withered, crazy little self.

And as my fist soared through the glass, I let out everything in a pent up scream of rage, pain, fear, and sorrow.

"RraaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!!!!**"

I punched. Punched, punched, punched.

Again and again.

Screaming.

Letting out everything I had held inside.

Everything.

Tears poured down my cheeks, and I could vaguely feel the bones in my hand creaking and cracking.

After what seemed like ages, I slumped down to my knees, hyperventilating. My hands lay limply on the ground next to me, and my chin rested heavily on my chest.

In the shadows, I fell apart for the third time in my life.

After a while, I could hear a siren wailing in the distance, coming closer.

I took a ragged, torn breath and got my feet under me before stumbling off into the shadows.

There was a dent in the wall behind what was left of the shattered glass.


	7. sorry

Sam and Tucker stepped quietly down the street, side by side.

It had been three days now.

As Casper High came into view, Sam sighed.

"Do you think he left again?"

Tucker's shoulders slumped. They had searched and searched, but Danny seemed to have simply vanished. There was no trace of him anywhere. At first they had wanted to go to the police, but then…would they really believe two teenagers who were already suffering from the heavy stress of losing a close friend? Even if it was four years ago, ghosts of the past sometimes came back to haunt people who have gone through traumatic experiences. So why would this be any different to the eyes of the authorities, who dealt with the families and friends of missing people all the time?

For the sake of avoiding the sympathetic looks and shrinks who would only smile and tell them things they already knew, they had decided to search for Danny on their own.

They had long speculated on what had happened. Danny had just seemed to freak out. They had been through the circular conversations over and over again, and Tucker could only give Sam the same answer he had given her before. "I don't know."

And then he did know.

Because Danny had stepped out in front of them, looking almost dead.

Tucker stared at him a second in shock, then said the first thing that came to mind. "You look like shit."

Sam glanced up and gasped, her eyes wide.

Danny gave a half-hearted grin that faded away so quickly that Tucker wasn't even sure it was there in the first place. He noticed how pale his friend was (except for the dark bags under his sunken dull blue eyes), and how his ragged clothes hung limply from him.

"I'm…sorry." It seemed to cost him a lot to speak. He swayed a bit, then continued. "I…I shouldn't have…I mean…I acted totally…totally out of line. I-I shouldn't have run away like that. But I couldn't stay. I just….." He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."

Sam stared at him. "It's okay Danny. You're here. That's all we need to know right now."

A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders at the words.

Tucker took an uncertain step forward as Danny swayed again. "Danny?"

* * *

I was floating.

I was dizzy.

My body was empty.

My head was buzzing.

Four years with little or no food and sleep, no sanity, and too many emotional rollercoaster rides had taken their toll on me. I had been so tense for so long that my muscles simply didn't want to work any more. After my emotional outpouring three days ago, I had barely been able to get my body to cooperate at all, and my mind had been left in a blank, numb haze. I had been feeling this fall rushing toward me for weeks, but I never thought it would happen so…so fast.

But I had to tell them. They had to know. I was so sorry. So damn sorry.

Sam's words cut through my fevered buzz.

_It's okay Danny. You're here. That's all we need to know right now_.

The fog lifted a little, and I felt lighter.

"_Danny?_"

I glanced at Tucker.

Grinned.

"Hey Tuck."

And passed out.


	8. jello

Tucker and Sam both gasped and rushed forward, catching their friend as he fell. Sam couldn't believe how light he was.

"Quick, call an ambulance!" Tucker pulled out his cell and quickly dialed 911 as Sam leaned over her friend, calling his name.

"Danny! Come on, Danny wake up! Danny!"

She put her cheek close to his mouth, felt the trickle of air tickle her skin. She placed two fingers against the side of his neck, felt the thread running softly, a faint pulse against her nerves.

"Danny! Wake up! Danny!"

She realized she was crying, but didn't stop to brush away the tears. She kneaded her knuckles over his sternum in a vain attempt to rouse him.

"Please! Come on, Danny, don't do this! Don't do this!"

Tucker was speaking behind her, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. She didn't care. She couldn't lose him. Not now, not again.

A siren wailed in the distance, coming closer.

People had stopped on the sidewalk around them, gasping, watching with raptor eyes.

Sam ignored them.

A man knelt down next to her, checked Danny's pulse and breathing. He spoke to Sam, but she couldn't understand the words.

Then there were other men wearing blue shirts and carrying medical bags kneeling around Danny, and the siren was louder, and someone was holding her arm, pulling her gently back to give the men more room, but she could only focus on her friend, lying so still and pale on the sidewalk.

* * *

She didn't remember arriving at the hospital, but she became aware of sitting in the waiting room with Tucker's arm wrapped around her shoulders. She realized he was shaking, even though his eyes were dry.

"Tucker," she whispered after several minutes.

He hugged her tighter and turned his head so he could see her.

"What's up, Sam?"

"How long have we been here?"

He sighed. "A couple hours at least, though it feels like it's been days."

"No news?"

"Not yet. The doctors just took the Fentons in to see him a few minutes ago."

"When did they get here?"

"About ten minutes after we did."

Sam rubbed her hand over her face. "I don't really remember any of it. It's all just a blur."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. None of this seems real. I mean, Danny's been gone for four years, and all of a sudden he just reappears, and he's all fucked up. I don't get it."

"Me neither."

They sat together in the waiting room of the hospital, leaning together for warmth, strength, hope, sanity.

"Tucker?"

"Hmmm?"

"What do you think's gonna happen now?"

He sighed again, and rubbed her far shoulder. "I don't know."

The faint swish of a door echoed through the silent room, and Sam and Tucker both glanced up.

An older doctor with a kind face and light green eyes stepped towards them. "Are you Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley?"

They nodded, their throats suddenly too dry to speak properly.

"Well," he smiled tiredly. "your friend is definitely the worse for wear, but we think he'll be just fine."

The two teenagers stared at the doctor, their heads buzzing. Sam let out the breath she hadn't been aware of holding. "Danny's gonna be okay?"

The doctor nodded, still smiling.

"Can we see him?" Tucker asked. His voice was hoarse.

"I don't think it would be too good of an idea right now, as the room is only so big and his family is in with him at the moment, but maybe later. I'll come and tell you myself when you can go in."

Sam looked at the doctor dejectedly. "But he's practically our brother! If he's gonna be okay, then why can't we see him now?"

The doctor stared thoughtfully at her for a second, then at Tucker, whose face mirrored Sam's.

"How about this;" he put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Why don't you two head on down to the cafeteria and get something to eat? The food's terrible, but not even the hospital cooks can mess up jell-o. I'll talk to the Fentons, and we'll work something out. Is that alright?"

Sam glared at him, suddenly sick of his fake kindness, and opened her mouth to respond, when Tucker cut in.

"That's fine. But please, we really need to see him. Sam's right. Danny's my brother, whether we have the same parents or not, and this is the first any of us have seen him in four years. Please understand."

He gripped Sam's shoulders. The doctor let go of them, his smile just an echo playing on his lips. Tucker steered Sam away from him and led her towards the cafeteria.

"I'm not hungry." Sam said as they pushed through the double doors.

"Me neither, but arguing wasn't going to accomplish anything. Let's just sit in here until he decides we can go in. I think the Fentons need to be with him right now a lot more than we do."

Sam sighed. He was right, of course, but she still wanted to see her friend.

They walked to a table in the back, and plopped down tiredly. Sam yawned.

After a second, Tucker stood up. "Be right back."

Sam looked up from the table. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna get some jell-o." He walked away, and Sam looked back down at the table.

Tucker came back with two bowls of the red dessert, and slid into the seat across the table from Sam. He pushed a bowl towards her and handed her a spoon.

"Thanks." She took the spoon and stared playing idly with the dessert.

"No problem."

They both ate in silence. The doctor had lied; the jell-o was bland and somewhat watery, but for lack of anything better to do, they ate it.

Tucker looked up suddenly, an amused grin playing across his lips.

"Bat-winged teddy bears, huh?"

Sam looked up at Tucker and grinned, pushing the half-eaten jell-o away from herself. "From a hidden lair deep in the land of Transylvania."

They stared at each other a second, then burst out laughing, their hearts lighter than they had been in years.

It was finally starting to sink in; Danny was back, and he was going to be okay.


End file.
